


The Fire In Which We Burn

by admiralandrea



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles, NCIS: New Orleans
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical, Pain, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25824838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admiralandrea/pseuds/admiralandrea
Summary: Callen is taken whilst on a mission in New Orleans. He rescues himself, Pride's team find and take out the bad guys, while Sam looks after his partner.
Relationships: G Callen/Sam Hanna
Kudos: 38





	The Fire In Which We Burn

**Author's Note:**

> There is a blink and you'd miss it crossover to Bones in here, none of the characters appear on screen as it were, so I didn't think it merited tagging as a fandom. There is a description of violence herein but not anything worse than you'd see on screen, IMO.
> 
> For the traumafic square of my Trope Bingo card.

He was struggling along the same road he’d been walking for what seemed like always. It was hot and humid, searing temperatures that meant his T-shirt stuck to his skin and his jeans chafed his legs, the heavy denim and the thin cotton alike soaked with his sweat. He wore a baseball cap, the peak protecting his eyes, but his the rest of it was just as wet as his clothes, meaning his hair was also soaked, despite how little he had. He wore shoes, but no socks, and they were ill-fitting, rubbing his feet and leaving them aching and blistered. The only part of him that wasn’t covered were his hands, but that just meant they were unprotected and burned as well.

Still he kept walking, head pounding and tongue swollen with thirst and dehydration. The gravelly path had grass and weeds poking through, hiding the unevenness that tripped the unwary walker. He hadn’t yet fallen, but it had been a close run thing.

And then he did fall, crying out as his hands struck the ground, gravel in his palms and soreness in his knees adding to the overall pain of his bruised and battered body. But he knew he had to keep going, so he struggled to his feet again and pushed ever onwards under the unrelenting sun.

Still he fell twice more as he continued, this time skinning his palms, to leave them bloody and ripping holes in the knees of his jeans, so that the flesh beneath was torn as well. He would have cried, but his body had no moisture left to give away.

But he refused to be beaten, stubbornness driving him upright and on again, until the gravel path became a road, asphalt that baked and melted in the heat of the sun. The white line down the middle seemed overly bright to his sensitive eyes, shimmering in the heat, but it gave him a guideline to follow as he turned onto this new route and continued walking.

He didn’t hear the noise of the approaching vehicle, lost in the daze of unending thirst and pain. When the horn blared, he startled, tripped over his own feet and fell again, striking his head this time as he landed. The darkness was actually a welcome relief, so he was happy to let oblivion fall.

*

Sam Hanna looked down through the observation window at his partner with something close to despair. He didn’t think he’d ever seen G Callen look such a mess before, not even when he’d been shot five times or ingested Spiral, the drug that had nearly killed him.

There must have been a dozen medical personnel swarming around his partner’s body and it was only the reassuring beep of the heart monitor that kept Sam from giving in completely to his fear. That and the presence by his side of their boss, Hetty Lang. She radiated strength and belief, despite her small stature and Sam knew he could give no less.

“What’s the update?” Sam asked without turning from the view beneath them.

“Agents and State Police continue to scour the area where he was found,” Agent Pride of the New Orleans office spoke up behind them. “My people are part of that team as well.”

“And?” Hetty prompted.

There was a pause before Pride spoken again. “The nearest location where we can find a property is nearly ten miles from where Agent Callen was found.”

Sam did turn round at that, however briefly. “G walked ten miles through that heat and humidity?”

“It seems so,” Pride agreed. “Unless we find some hidden cabin or outhouse that isn’t on the map, which isn’t impossible in that area of the bayou. People go out there to fish and might set up a shelter and never tell anyone.”

Sam hummed in response to that, eyes glued on the figures moving around Callen as they continued to treat him.

“What is your strategy Agent Pride?” Hetty asked.

Sam only listened with half an ear as Pride explained that they were working inwards along the route most likely to have been followed by his partner, down a poorly maintained gravel path towards the log cain that was known to them, although the identity of its owner was less than clear.

“We decided it was better to proceed slowly and with caution,” Pride said. “We don’t want to go straight for the cabin because we can’t tell if it’s currently occupied and it sits in a large clearing with no cover for the final approach.”

“What about satellite coverage?” Hetty asked.

Pride sounded apologetic when he replied. “I don’t have authority to obtain that myself and my request to go up the chain of command has so far gone unanswered.”

“We can’t have that,” Hetty said briskly. “Allow me to make some calls.”

Pride sounded relieved and impressed when he agreed to Hetty’s suggestion. A hand touched Sam’s arm briefly. “I will return shortly Mr Hanna.”

He nodded at her, still not shifting his attention from the room below. He didn’t really care about all those details at the moment, content to leave the action to others so long as he could continue to watch over Callen and protect him, however remotely, even if he had failed to do so before. It was that inability that had left his partner in the mess he was in now, as far as Sam was concerned.

Hetty moved away and Sam heard her leave the room, Pride stepping up to take her place beside him. “We will get whoever did this to him Agent Hanna.”

Sam snorted. “I think he mostly did it to himself,” he observed. He felt Pride’s flinch, they were stood that close together.

“Maybe,” he agreed. “But someone is to blame for him being in the sort of situation to need to put himself through that hell and that’s who we’ll find and punish.”

Sam nodded absently, leaning forward to press right up against the glass as he watched the figures moving around below, a slight sense of increased urgency infecting them as they worked. The sounds from the heart monitor changed, slowing and then going into the recognizable sounds of arrhythmia and Sam flinched.

“Stay with me G,” he muttered. “Stay with me.” It was an unconscious echo of that day on the Venice sidewalk, when he’d cradled his partner’s broken body and willed him to live.

*

Several hours later, Callen had finally been stable enough to be moved to a private room in ICU. It was a given that Sam would be at his side the whole time. They didn’t know enough about the situation for him to be left unguarded and vulnerable. That had been Hetty’s argument to the hospital administrators anyway. It was even the truth. There was also another, more personal, truth to Sam’s continued presence but the bureaucrats didn’t need to know about that.

Pride had updated Hetty on the outcome of the search for where Callen had come from, confirming that it was the cabin on the map. A search of a different kind, for who owned the cabin, was still ongoing. The forensics team hadn’t found much at the location; most of the DNA was likely to be Callen’s based on the fact that they had found chains broken and discarded inside. 

There was no evidence of anyone else though and no implements of torture, even though the doctors had confirmed that Callen had injuries consistent with being beaten and more. It had made for grim listening for Sam and one look at Hetty’s face told him she was little better off. His partner’s close relationship with their boss was little known outside the confines of their team, to protect both of them from repercussions, but Sam knew that Pride was one of those outside the team who had been told.

“We’ll keep looking Hetty, Sam,” he had reassured them and Hetty had murmured words of thanks and understanding, before Pride left to go back to his office and the work being done by his team.

A different doctor approached and asked to speak to them both. “I wanted to discuss some of the aspects of my patient’s care,” she explained, when they stepped just outside the room. She introduced herself as Dr. Lindsay.

The door was glass, so Sam could keep watch on his partner the whole time. The doctor didn’t call him on it, for which he was grateful.

“Miss Lang very kindly arranged for me to have access to your partner’s medical records,” the doctor said to him. “It was enlightening in terms of reactions to medications and things like being restrained or intubated.”

Sam glanced at Hetty, raising an eyebrow. “It was the clean version,” she assured him and Sam nodded. All of the team had such files, with certain information removed or altered as necessary. They all had different aliases on those files as well, depending on the situation.

“With that information in mind,” Dr. Lindsay continued, “I am happy for you to be present at all times until Mr Albright wakes up and is mindful of his situation.”

Greg Albright was the alias on the file that Hetty had supplied, it was the one Callen had used to travel to New Orleans, so it made sense. 

“Thank you Dr. Lindsay,” Sam told her gratefully. Not having to fight to leave his partner’s side was a relief. A battle like that involved energy he would prefer to use elsewhere, in protecting Callen and being alert for danger.

She gave him a professional smile. “Not at all. I have also ensured all the other staff are aware of the situation, although I have minimized who will interact with Mr Albright, for his protection.” She glanced at Hetty. “Miss Lang was also quite clear on the security implications of your continued presence here.”

Sam nodded and turned his attention back to Callen again. “How long will he be out for?”

“At least a couple of days,” Dr. Lindsay said. “We want his body to use the majority of it’s resources for the healing process. Having Mr Albright sedated and intubated makes that easier as he doesn’t have to breathe for himself.”

Sam remembered something similar after Callen had been shot, as well as when he’d been treated for Spiral, which had seriously affected his lungs for a while, to the extent that they’d not been sure he’d recover enough for field work at one point. Thankfully those fears had proven to be unfounded and Callen had made a full recovery eventually. 

“We also have Mr Albright on broad spectrum antibiotics in case of infection,” Dr. Lindsay added. “I understand he was kept in less than sanitary conditions and with the additional ordeal he went through after his escape, there is a high risk of something unpleasant developing. The antibiotics won’t necessarily stop that from happening, but they will ensure that if an infection does occur, we have more time to identify a suitably targeted treatment.”

Sam felt reassured by what she was saying, but he had another pressing concern. “And his kidneys?”

When Dr. Lindsay sighed, Sam looked round at her. “They are my major concern,” she admitted. “As I am sure you’re aware, the effects of trauma can be cumulative, even if different injuries or mechanisms caused the original trauma.”

Sam nodded understanding. “So in this instance, we will keep a very close watch on Mr Albright’s kidney function and manage things as conservatively as possible in this initial phase of his recovery. Depending on how that goes, we may need to change our approach in the future.”

“Do you think that is likely?” Hetty interjected her first question of the conversation.

Dr. Lindsay didn’t answer immediately. “I honestly don’t know,” she said, surprising Sam. “Medicine is not an exact science and everyone behaves differently,” she explained, noting his reaction. “My perusal of Mr Albright’s records tell me he is an atypical patient in many ways, not just in how he behaves but also in his level of recovery. To come back as he did both from the shooting incident and the more recent poisoning tell me he is a very resilient individual. Therefore I rule nothing out, but will make sure all options are available, should they be needed.”

“Thank you Doctor,” Sam told her sincerely, appreciating the candor.

Hetty echoed his comment and with a few last words of reassurance, they were left alone once more. Sam didn’t hesitate to go back to his partner’s side, picking up the hand that was free of injuries, although both palms were bandaged because of the grazes he’d acquired. Sam squeezed the fingers gently before pressing a kiss to them.

“I’m right here G,” he murmured, ignoring Hetty’s presence. “You just rest and get better, that’s all that matters. I’ve got your back.”

Hetty’s hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed firmly. “We’ve got your back Mr Callen,” she said, her voice just as quiet as Sam’s had been as she used his partner’s own name.

Sam smiled, though she couldn’t see him and settled back in the uncomfortable chair, willing to keep vigil for as long as needed.

*

Several days later, they were still waiting for Callen to wake up. He had been weaned off the sedatives, but hadn’t come round as expected. Sam wasn’t too concerned, but he knew that even Hetty was bothered.

“G’ll wake up when he’s ready,” Sam told her confidently. “You know he likes to do things at his own pace.”

Hetty looked a little bit amused at that. “This is true Sam,” she agreed and Sam was glad she had gone so far as to use his first name. “He does always do things at his own pace, though usually with Callen it means he’s up and raring to go before the doctors want him to leave.”

Sam nodded. “I know, but he’s been through a lot and he was alone for the whole experience. I don’t think he’s ready to face what he had done to him yet.”

“That is a very astute observation,” Hetty said thoughtfully. 

Before they could discuss it any further, Chris LaSalle, one of Pride’s agents knocked gently on the door frame. 

“We have the suspect in custody,” he announced.

With the help of Eric from back home in Los Angeles, Patton Plame, Pride’s computer expert, had managed to unravel the shell corporation that owned the cabin where Callen had been kept and they had arrested the man who the company led back to. None of them believed he had anything to do with the kidnapping, but it was somewhere to start.

“I’d like to be there for the questioning,” Hetty said.

LaSalle nodded. “We thought you would, which is why King sent me to get you.”

“I’ll be right here,” Sam said. He hadn’t left Callen’s room for more than a shower or the occasional walk around the building for days. And he’d only done that when Pride or LaSalle had been present with Hetty when he was away.

“Perhaps Mr Callen will have finally awoken when I return,” Hetty suggested as she reached for her purse.

Sam smiled. “You might just be right there Hetty.”

With that, she left with LaSalle and Sam settled down by his partner’s side again, taking a grip on a hand that was no longer bandaged. His partner was still recovering from his injuries, but had made good progress according to Dr. Lindsay, who was particularly pleased with how his kidneys had improved over the last few days.

*

Hetty had been gone a while when Sam noticed that Callen was starting to move around and make noise, suggesting he was waking up. He stood up and bent down close to his partner so he could speak directly in his ear.

“It’s okay G, you’re safe,” he said. “You’re in the hospital, no one’s going to hurt you.”

Callen groaned and his eyelids fluttered, but didn’t quite open. “That’s it G, let me see those baby blues,” Sam encouraged.

With another groan, Callen’s eyes opened and stared at Sam briefly, then slid shut again. Sam couldn’t help a broad grin at that. He pressed a kiss to his partner’s forehead and squeezed the hand he still held.

Noise at the door alerted him to the arrival of a nurse and Sam straightened up. 

“He was awake?” the nurse asked. They were monitoring Callen from the nursing station, as well as coming in to do regular checks.

Sam nodded. “For about a second.”

“I’ll let Dr. Lindsay know, she’ll be here shortly for rounds,” the nurse said.

“Sure,” Sam said and settled back in his seat. He guessed that now he’d been awake once, Callen would soon be opening his eyes again and he felt satisfied. 

There was still a long way to go and they had no idea yet what sort of mental trauma his partner had been through, but Sam was sure that Callen would deal with it, with his help, the way they always did. He fished out his cell phone to text Hetty the good news to pass on to the others. It might help Pride in his interrogation to know that Callen was awake at last.

*

Callen looked up fearfully as the tall shadowy figure of his tormentor approached once more. He cowered back as much as he could while still chained to the wall.

“Please no, stop, please don’t!” he begged. 

It wasn’t like him to give in, but he was still playing a role, the ruse of his alias undiscovered by the man tormenting him. It meant Callen reacted differently to how he would if he was the stoic federal agent.

The man just laughed as he came closer, iron bar swinging casually from one hand. Callen’s fingers scrabbled for purchase on the hard ground as he pressed back against the wall behind him. His tormentor was so used to Callen’s submission to his torture that he’d gotten lax the last couple of times he’d appeared.

That carelessness served Callen well now and he took the opportunity, surging upwards as the man got close enough. His chains had weakened to the point that they pulled free from the crumbling wall and Callen swung them full force at his captor, smashing them into his face.

The iron bar fell with a clang as the man roared his disapproval, immediately grasping his nose as blood poured from it. Callen didn’t give him a chance to recover, this time whipping his chains at the man’s feet and ankles, tangling them and bringing him to the floor. Callen fell as well, landing on top of his captor. 

Again he didn’t hesitate, grabbing for the iron bar and striking the man in the head while he was still stunned. With a moan, he went limp beneath Callen, who dropped the bar to one side, panting for breath. He didn’t give himself time to recover though, scrabbling through the man’s clothes to find the keys to his chains. If he didn’t free himself from the metal, he wouldn’t get very far in his escape.

With a triumphant shout, he pulled them from a pants pocket and fumbled the locks open, freeing his wrists and then his ankles. The chains landed on the floor with a heavy clanking noise and Callen breathed more easily.

Taking in the man on the floor, he fumbled for a pulse, but couldn’t find one. Not caring, he decided he needed to get away now anyway. Pulling off the man’s shoes, he shoved his own feet into them, lacing them as tightly as possible. This guy was more Sam’s size than Callen’s, so the shoes were ill-fitting at best. Beggars can’t be choosers though, so Callen pushed himself to his feet, stamping them a couple of times to get the shoes as comfortable as possible.

With a groan, Callen realized he needed to search the rest of the body for anything else useful. Car keys would be the best thing he could find, along with water. He had no idea where he was being held, but it was rural and hot.

Unfortunately the search was a bust; there were no other keys than those for the chains that he’d already found and he didn’t have a water bottle hidden about his person either. The latter Callen could understand, but he had no idea about the former. Going outside on slow, stumbling feet, he found no sign of a car.

Casting around, he couldn’t tell where the man had come from. The path looked the same in both directions and there were no marks that he could discern that would give him a clue as to the best way to go to find his way out of here. With a sigh, Callen looked around once more. Deciding he’d be marginally better off with the sun behind him, he started to trudge in the direction that would take him. He could only hope it would lead him to civilization – or at least some sort of assistance sooner rather than later. 

*

Sam watched in concern as his partner moved restlessly on the bed, guessing he was having a nightmare. He had woken briefly again a time or two in the last few hours, once even going so far as to murmur Sam’s name before falling asleep again. Sam hadn’t been convinced he’d even known Sam was there, but had found it reassuring nonetheless.

This was different though. Callen appeared to be struggling in his dream and he was moaning as well. So far none of the staff had appeared, but Sam knew it was only a matter of time. He just hoped that he could persuade them to let him handle it, particularly as Dr. Lindsay was off duty at the moment.

“Sam!” Callen’s loud cry of his name had him out of his seat and reaching out to touch his partner’s shoulder gently.

“I’m right here G,” he said soothingly, bending down to speak right in Callen’s ear. “It’s alright, you’re safe, I’ve got you.” He continued to murmur words of reassurance and kept a light touch on Callen’s shoulder as well.

Then suddenly, Callen flung himself upright in the bed and screamed. Sam narrowly avoided getting hit, then falling on his ass when he over-balanced. He winced, glad there was no one to witness that moment of gracelessness, before focussing back on his partner.

“Sam!” Callen was looking around, wild-eyed and panting.

Sam moved forward again, reaching out carefully. “I’m right here G,” he soothed. 

When Callen didn’t react violently, but instead started to shiver, Sam drew him into his arms. “I’ve got you sweetheart,” Sam murmured. 

Normally, his partner hated the endearment, but Sam figured it would get through to him in a way nothing else would. He continued to hold on as Callen shook in his arms, rubbing his back and whispering comforting nonsense again. Gradually, Callen settled down again and Sam heard him sniff loudly.

“Sam?” he pulled back, but Sam didn’t let him escape completely.

“You back with me G?” he asked, looking into Callen’s face.

Callen nodded, rubbing a hand under his nose. “Where am I?”

“University Medical Center, New Orleans,” Sam said. He helped his partner settle back on the bed. “How you doing?”

Callen shrugged, then winced. “What happened to me?”

“What do you remember?” Sam countered. He’d agreed with Dr. Lindsay that they needed to know what Callen could tell them first, before explaining anything.

Callen frowned, then coughed. Sam reached for the glass of water on the tray table and handed it to him. Callen sipped thoughtfully, clearly taking the time to get his memories in order.

“I was on assignment,” he said as he handed the glass back. “An old alias got a message and we agreed I should follow up on it. You came as back up and we got the local office to provide support as well.”

Sam nodded, pleased with what he’d heard so far. “But by the time we got here, the contact was dead. Murdered,” Callen added. “You wanted me to call a halt then, but Hetty and I persuaded you that we should carry on, follow up on the case, see what we could find out.”

Sam winced. ‘Persuaded’ was a gentle word for the rather loud argument he’d had with his partner and their boss in the SCIF at the New Orleans facility. It was lucky that secure also meant soundproof, or Sam was sure that they would have had Pride banging on the door, demanding to know what was going on. In the end, Callen and Hetty had won the day and Callen had continued with his undercover role.

“Did you get made?” Sam asked.

Callen shook his head. “No, the guy who got me was convinced I was Pete Wilson.” That had been Callen’s undercover name.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him from getting you,” Sam told his partner. 

He had been forced to stay way back during the meet and that had given the guy the opportunity to get the drop on Callen and kidnap him. By the time Sam had gotten closer, it was too late, Callen had disappeared.

Callen took his hand. “It wasn’t your fault Sam, you were right about the whole thing. It was a mistake. We didn’t have enough intel on the situation and you had to stay too far away to be effective as my back up.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not sorry,” Sam said. “What else do you remember?” 

Callen sighed. “He had me in this cabin out in the bayou somewhere.”

“Yeah, we found it,” Sam said grimly.

“Was he there?” Callen asked.

Sam was surprised. “The guy who took you?”

“Yeah, he got lazy the last few times he came to beat on me. I was able to break free and escape. I couldn’t find a pulse, thought he was dead.”

“Pride said there was no body when the team reached the cabin.”

“So either he wasn’t dead or someone else came along and removed him,” Callen concluded. “I did break his nose at least though. And some other damage as well.”

Sam reached for his cell. “If I get Pride to bring a sketch artist, do you think you can describe him enough for a likeness? I never saw him, so we didn’t even know who we were looking for.”

Callen shuddered. “That’s a face I’m not likely to forget.”

“Okay,” Sam sent a text and got a reply almost immediately. “Pride will bring someone by soon.”

“Where’s Hetty?” Callen asked. “Did I dream it, or was she here earlier?”

Sam smiled. “She was here alright,” he said. “But she had to go deal with Vance and then agreed she’d rest for a while before coming back to sit with you later.” 

Callen nodded at that. “What about the rest of the team?”

“Back home still. They’ve helped out where they could, especially the Wonder Twins, but Hetty couldn’t justify bringing them out here when we have cases there that still need their attention.”

“I guess,” Callen agreed. “And Pride’s team do good work.”

“I’m glad to hear you think so, Agent Callen.” Pride’s voice came from the door behind them. 

Sam had been aware of his approach, but his footsteps were familiar and he hadn’t felt the need to warn his partner. He took in the figure behind him, guessing it must be the sketch artist.

“Good to see you’re awake,” Pride said as he came fully into the room.

Callen gave him a brief smile. “Good to be awake,” he said.

Before they could go any further, a nurse appeared in the doorway. “Mr Albright, it’s time for me to check you over now that you’re awake,” he announced.

Sam frowned, not recognizing him. At Hetty’s insistence, the hospital had been keeping the same staff treating his partner as much as possible.

“This isn’t a good time,” Callen protested.

The nurse moved closer to the bed. “I’m afraid you don’t get to determine that sir.”

Sam shifted subtly, feeling something wasn’t right. Pride moved on the other side and the sketch artist faded back from the room, earning Sam’s approval. The nurse seemed oblivious to what was happening, which made Sam frown. This guy couldn’t be much of a pro if he didn’t notice the tension in the room.

A moment later, the nurse raised a syringe towards Callen’s IV. “This will help you to relax while I examine you.”

“I don’t think so,” Sam said sharply.

Pride was on the side where the nurse was holding the needle and he gripped the man’s wrist tightly, halting his movement.

“What are you doing?” the nurse exclaimed, starting to struggle.

Sam quickly stepped up and got him in a bear hug, making it easier for Pride to immobilize the hand with the syringe and take it from him.

“What’s going on here?” Dr. Lindsay’s loud voice was a welcome relief, as it distracted the nurse, allowing Sam to get proper control of him.

“Who is this man?” Dr. Lindsay asked.

“You don’t recognize him?” Pride asked, as he wrapped the syringe in a glove he pulled from the box on the wall.

Dr. Lindsay shook her head. “He’s not one of our staff.”

“Call Security,” Pride ordered, “And get on to NOPD. We need them to analyze the contents of this syringe right away.”

Dr. Lindsay nodded and headed back out the room. Fortunately, someone had already alerted security, because almost immediately two guys appeared and showed Sam where he could take his prisoner and keep him secure. Pride stayed in the room with Callen, much to his relief, though not before handing over his cuffs.

Sam soon had the fake nurse secured in the room and the security guards agreed to stay put while they waited for NOPD to arrive and take him into custody.

By the time Sam got back to his partner’s room, Hetty had also arrived, along with Agent LaSalle and Pride was explaining what had happened. NOPD turned up soon after and it took a while for things to be sorted out. Pride and LaSalle left, heading back to their office, where they would interrogate the prisoner. Hetty stayed, along with the sketch artist, as Callen had said he was capable of giving a description still.

Sam took a seat at his partner’s bedside again, a mixture of relief and adrenaline serving to make him feel a little shaky in the aftermath. Callen gave him a concerned look, as did Hetty, but he waved them off. There was no way he was leaving his partner after that little stunt. 

*

The fake nurse had quickly proven to be a patsy, hired via the dark web to make the attempt on Callen. Unfortunately, that just served to raise a whole host more questions, like who had hired him and how they had known where to find Callen. His undercover alias and the name he was using in the hospital weren’t the same and there shouldn’t be anything to connect the two.

Eric and Patton were searching for the IP address of the person who had contacted the fake nurse, although they weren’t sure it would take them anywhere useful, it still had to be followed up. Hetty had Nell doing very discreet background checks into everyone who had come into contact with Callen since he’d been found on the highway. They hadn’t told Pride about those checks, out of respect for the connections he and his team had to both the Sheriff’s Department and NOPD. None of them believed that Pride or his team had been compromised, but they weren’t taking any chances when it came to Callen.

Then, two days later, a body turned up in the bayou. It quickly became apparent that it had been there a while and it wasn’t in very good condition.

“Miss Loretta has called in assistance,” LaSalle explained to Sam and Callen. 

Pride had gone to the airport to meet the forensic anthropologist that the coroner, Loretta Wade, had asked for help. 

“And she can be trusted?” Sam asked.

LaSalle nodded. “She regularly works with the FBI on cases and has high level security clearance. Miss Loretta is friends with a Federal Prosecutor up there in D.C. and she vouched for this Dr. Brennan. Says she speaks her mind but is the best in the world at her job.”

“Alright,” Sam conceded. He wasn’t too happy at the prospect of an outsider coming in, but they believed the body to be the man who had kidnapped and tortured his partner, so they had to accept the help.

“When are you all getting out of here?” LaSalle asked Callen.

Callen grimaced. “Soon, I hope. Dr. Lindsay is reluctant to commit to a day still, says it depends on the next set of test results.” He had had some complications with his kidneys that had kept Callen stuck in the hospital for longer than he’d hoped. 

“Well we have a safe house all ready to go when you do get out of here,” LaSalle said. “It’s off the grid, not known to anyone outside of the team, so we don’t believe it to be compromised.”

Sam nodded. He’d gone over the details with Hetty already, when Pride had apprised them of the situation and he was satisfied it was safe. Or as safe as it could be when there was still so much they didn’t know about this case. 

LaSalle’s cellphone started to ring and Hetty appeared in the doorway to Callen’s room, so they exchanged farewells and LaSalle headed down the corridor, phone in hand as Hetty took his place at Callen’s bedside.

*

Dr. Lindsay came into Callen’s room, where he was sitting quietly with Sam. They had been talking idly earlier, but the conversation had petered out and they were content to just enjoy each other’s company. Callen’s eyes had drifted closed, but he wasn’t really sleeping. Sam’s fingers held his lightly and his thumb stroked Callen’s palm reassuringly.

The noise of the doctor’s arrival, however slight, was enough to have Callen startling awake. Sam’s grip tightened on his hand. “Easy G, just the doctor,” he said reassuringly and Callen relaxed again.

“Good news Mr Albright,” Dr. Lindsay announced with a smile.

“I can get out of here?” Callen asked, expression immediately brightening, as he sat up straighter in his bed.

Dr. Lindsay smiled some more. “You’re good to go,” she agreed. “All your test results look clean.”

“Thank god,” Callen said fervently, then immediately looked sheepish. “Sorry, but,”

“It’s alright,” Dr. Lindsay interrupted. “I understand and I’m not offended.” Callen grinned at that. “I do have some instructions on things to look out for though,” she added and Callen nodded more soberly at that.

She handed the sheets of paper over to Sam, who accepted them with a nod. He was smiling as well at the prospect of getting his partner out of the hospital.

“I’ll call Pride,” Sam said, holding up his phone and Callen nodded.

They had agreed that as soon as Callen could leave, they would go to the safe house. Dr. Lindsay had indicated it was likely to be today, so Pride had people on standby ready to pick them up and take them to the secure location. 

*

LaSalle came to pick them up. “Good news,” he announced as he came in the door.

Sam and Callen looked at him expectantly. “We have the identity of the guy who was fished out of the bayou. Between your work with the sketch artist and the team at the Jeffersonian, he’s been named as Graeme Duval. We’re doing all we can to uncover everything about him and his known associates.”

Sam looked to Callen, who just shook his head. He didn’t recognize the name. “We’re still going to the safe house though?” he asked.

LaSalle nodded. “Yeah, Pride figures it the best option for now, until we know who hired that fake nurse.”

The three of them made their way out of the hospital, Callen enduring the obligatory wheelchair ride, though at least Sam was pushing him. LaSalle had the car parked out front and they quickly transferred to the vehicle, Callen settling in the back where the windows were tinted so no one could see in. 

*

Finding the identity of the guy who’d attacked Callen turned out to be the key to the case and between the teams in New Orleans and L.A. the plot soon unravelled. They were able to find the guy who’d orchestrated the whole thing and arrest him with a minimum of fuss. He hadn’t even seen them coming.

“The guy you tried to kill?” Pride said as he tightened the handcuffs. “An undercover federal agent.”

Sam and Callen had watched via helmet cams worn by Pride and the SWAT team as they raided the compound where the head honcho lived. They saw the color drain from the guy’s face and exchanged looks. That reaction made it clear that the had no clue as to Callen’s real identity. While that was a relief, because it meant the threat was done, it would make no difference once the case got to court. 

Callen turned to Sam with a grin on his face. “You know what this means right?”

Sam did know. “We can go home,” he said. “The case is over.”

“Yeah,” Callen’s grin widened and it was tinged with a hint of relief that Sam could see underneath. He squeezed his partner’s hand, knowing this whole ordeal had been difficult for him, not least being sidelined at the end by his ongoing health issues.

“Anyone would think you didn’t like New Orleans,” Sam said with a smirk.

Callen shrugged. “Nothing against the city, but there’s been a lack of the hospitality the Big Easy is so famous for as far as I’m concerned.”

Sam squeezed his hand again, understanding that point. “We’ll have to come back on vacation,” he suggested.

“Maybe,” he conceded. “I miss home though.” As he said that, a complicated mixture of emotions crossed his face and he said “home” again, more thoughtfully this time. Then he turned to Sam. “I have a home!” He sounded surprised.

“You do,” Sam agreed.

Callen’s expression turned to a smile, one of happiness that Sam rarely saw. “I miss our home,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here with me, because it’d be worse if you weren’t. But I miss our home and our bed.” He leaned over and kissed Sam, albeit briefly. “I love you Sam and I love our home.”

Sam couldn’t help a small “Oh!” of surprise at that. He’d never heard his partner say anything like that before. He pulled Callen onto his lap and started to kiss him again, much more thoroughly.

A throat clearing broke them apart some undetermined time later. It was very distinctive and Sam could feel the heat of his partner’s blush, where he hid his face in Sam’s neck.

“Gentlemen,” Hetty sounded amused. “While it is good to see Mr Callen is feeling up,” Sam felt, rather than heard his partner’s groan at the slight emphasis on that word, “To certain activities, I do believe you might be more comfortable in your bedroom.”

“Sorry Hetty,” Sam knew he didn’t sound sorry, not least because he got a poke in the ribs from Callen.

They disentangled themselves and stood up. Callen turned to their boss, but she was smiling gently and Sam could see him relax at her expression. 

“It is good to see you well again dear,” she said and that brought the blush back full force. 

They might not acknowledge it, but Hetty was the closest Callen had to a mother and her approval and respect mattered to him. While she knew about their relationship, they were careful to keep it out of the office, so that there was no danger of anyone trying to separate them on the job.

“We’ll just be going to our room,” Callen muttered.

Hetty held up a hand. “One moment,” she said. “I merely came to advise you that now that the case is concluded, we are on a flight home tomorrow morning at 8am. You have this house to yourselves for tonight. The guards are all gone, as the danger is over.”

“Thanks Hetty,” Sam said and Callen echoed it a moment later. 

Knowing they had privacy now meant that they could have a proper reunion at last without any risk of being overheard. That tended to put a dampener on the mood, because they could be loud a lot of the time.

“I will see you in the morning gentlemen,” Hetty told them. “Good night.”

They said goodnight back and moments later, they were alone. Callen turned to Sam, eyes gleaming with mischief and amusement. “That was something I never thought I’d experience,” he said. 

“Feel more like a real boy now?” Sam asked, as he guided his partner down the hall to their room.

Callen chuckled. “Maybe,” he admitted. 

Sam steered them through the door and immediately pulled his partner into another searing kiss. When he finally broke free, Callen was panting and flushed for a different reason, eyes dark with arousal. Sam growled and immediately went to work on getting them both naked, Callen letting him do as he wanted.

Seeing the remaining marks on his partner’s body slowed Sam down, but Callen guided one hand to his hard, straining cock. “I’m fine Sam,” he said firmly.

Sam squeezed and stroked the hot flesh and pulled Callen’s head to his so they could kiss again, determined to forget about everything but loving the man in his arms. His anger had no place in their bedroom.

They were both eager and impatient after so long without this and it didn’t take much for them to come together, crying out their release, before collapsing spent and exhausted on the bed. They moved closer, bodies entwining as they exchanged slow kisses, that drifted to an end as they both dozed. They’d make love again soon, but for now it was enough that they’d renewed their physical connection.


End file.
